Thursday, February 3, 2011

Tomorrow it's midwinter. It's about 90 days until our big drive north to the cabin. That's assuming the snow melts and the mud dries enough for us to make it the last mile into camp.

Until then, near Boston winter is at its most robust. The deepest cold periods are done and now it's all about the snow. It's piled up to about four feet beside the roads. Ice dams glisten on the roofs. We're out shoveling so often we don't need to greet our neighbors anymore. Yet there is gradual melting, and we can feel more power in the sunshine each lengthening day. Today goldfinches appeared at our feeder, the yellow in their feathers still muted. But when they chirp and fly in dipping arcs, they're singing of the spring to come.

Meantime, we read our books about the north. We connect with our cabin friends by e-mail and phone. We're already planning the season.